


you like it

by ymorton



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Car Sex, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymorton/pseuds/ymorton
Summary: niall and louis fucking around at lollapalooza 2015written august 2015





	you like it

“Shitting fuck!” Niall laughs, tugging open the backseat door of the Range Rover. “Get in, get in.”

Louis tumbles in behind him, wiping rain off his face. “Jesus Christ!”

“Thought America was supposed to be nice in the summer?”

“Apparently not.” Louis fumbles for the door handle until they’re shut in. A particularly massive piece of hail cracks against the windshield and Niall twitches, curses under his breath, scrubbing a hand through his damp hair.

“Calm down,” Louis laughs. “Bulletproof, aren’t they?”

Niall lets out a long breath. “Fucking hell. This is not _on_.”

“It’s not that bad.” Louis pushes his chair back, holding down the lever until he’s flat on his back. He wriggles on the leather, presses his cheek to the seat back. “It’s nice. Cozy.”

Niall peers out the window. “Doors locked?”

“Yeah, mate.” Well, Louis’ not sure if they are, but- he reaches over to lock his own. “Yeah. We’re fine. We lost Preston, but we’re fine.”

Niall nods, not looking convinced. He gets paranoid when he’s high. He’s paranoid when he’s not high, to be honest, but when he’s fucked up, well. It used to freak Louis out, but now it just makes him laugh.

“Maate,” he drawls. “Unclench your arsehole.”

Niall looks over at him, eyes narrowing, but he reclines his seat to match Louis’. “Twat.”

Louis just laughs, stretches his arms to stroke his fingers over the ceiling of the car. Water trickles into his armpits when he does, and he shudders, snorts. God. He feels _good_.

“Are you fucked up?” he asks, rolling his head to look over at Niall.

“Yeah,” Niall says, wide-eyed.

“Me too.”

“That candy shite was, like. Fucking strong.”

Louis grins. “Yeah.”

It was some girl who gave it to them. Not just some girl, of course - they couldn’t just take shit from some random girl, or they’d all be dead by now. Some girl who had a friend on the crew, a tiny curly-haired girl with a raspy stoner’s laugh and a purse full of candy with weed put in.

They shared a blunt too, huddled in someone’s car before the Catfish and the Bottlemen show. Louis passed it over to the girl, felt her fingers on his, and he was stoned enough that it made him tingle. He wanted to fuck her, and she looked at him like she wanted it too.

He still could, tonight. But even as he thinks it he knows he’s not going to.

He opens his eyes. The hail’s still coming down, loud and steady.

When he looks over Niall’s watching him, glaze-eyed, and Louis snorts. Niall jerks his eyes away, folds his hands over his stomach.

“Alright there, Ni?”

“Fine,” Niall mumbles.

Louis looks back up at the ceiling.

“It’s weird, innit?” Niall says, almost to himself.

“What’s weird?”

“Like. We’ve got- tour, and everything. And the album. And then a few months. And then- like. The baby.”

There’s a flash of annoyance in Louis’ gut, at that. It’s not Niall’s bloody baby, is it. Of course Niall’s still worrying though. Worries enough for the five of-

Louis shuts his eyes. The four of them. 

“Lou?”

“Shut the fuck up, mate,” Louis says, lightly. “Try not to go into a panic about _my_ life, please, thanks.”

“I’m only saying-”

“Not in the mood for it, Niall.”

Niall goes quiet. When Louis glances over at him, he’s gazing out the window, face carefully blank. Louis refuses to fucking feel bad. Niall knows when he’s being annoying, and he still does it.

“D'you think,” Niall starts - he must be really fucked-up, if he’s giving up sulking after only thirty seconds. “Do you think, um. If you’d known about, like, Briana. At Glasto. Do you think we would’ve still, um-”

Louis stiffens when he realizes where Niall’s going.

“Niall.”

“I mean, just asking.” Niall swallows, the sound of it thick in the quiet car. “Cos, like.”

“That wasn’t anything. We were trashed.”

“I know.”

“I was still shagging Tamara then, too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Niall’s voice wobbles. “Was just asking. Cos like. You’re not with her - Briana, I mean. You’re not with her. Now, even.”

Louis looks up at the ceiling. Maybe he’s not as fucked up as Niall is, because he can see exactly where Niall’s trying to go. He wishes he were more stoned, suddenly. Like half-a-blunt more stoned.

“We’re not doing it again,” he says, firmly.

“I know.” Niall doesn’t sound like he knew. “Would you have, though. If you’d known about Briana then.”

“I don’t fucking know.” Louis looks out the window. “Probably. You were all over me, anyway.”

Niall huffs a weak laugh. “Yeah right.”

“You were.” Louis looks over at him, and - shit. Niall’s watching him again. His face is red and hot, just like it was back in that cramped little tent at Glasto, before he undid Louis’ jeans and-

“Wasn’t,” Niall says faintly. He licks his lips.

Louis reaches out with one hand to check the door lock again. It’s still raining hard, the sky gone temporarily dark with the storm, and everything’s shadowy.

“You want it again?” Louis asks, very quietly. “Is that what you’re trying to say? Once wasn’t enough?”

Niall swallows. “N-no. I- no. Don’t be a dick. I was only asking.”

“Really? Cos you kinda look like you want it.”

“Louis-”

“I like festival Niall,” Louis says, grinning. Niall’s face is so red. “He gets stoned, he sucks dick. He’s fun.”

Niall chews his bottom lip. “Shut up.”

“Go on then.” Louis widens his legs. His heart’s beating fast, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. He really wishes he were more stoned, but he knows - he knows if Niall sucks him he’ll like it anyway.

Niall’s _good_ at it. Louis never thought that, and then Niall was craned over his lap in a tent and his mouth, like. Well.

Louis coughs. Niall hasn’t moved, but the hand that was on his chest is lower now. On his thigh. He’s squeezing his leg, over and over, knee jiggling.

“Thought you were up for it,” Louis says.

“Don’t take the piss.”

Louis huffs an impatient breath and unzips his jeans. His prick’s half hard in his pants, and Niall’s eyes slide down to it.

“Not taking the fucking piss.”

Niall rubs his palms down his thighs, mumbles out- “Lou.”

Louis hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his pants, tugs them down. He feels air against his prick, making him shiver. He’s getting hard now, properly. Just thinking about Niall’s soft mouth. Or not Niall’s mouth. _A_ mouth.

“Louis, Christ.”

Niall says it through his teeth, pained and small.

He exhales hard, and then - shifts. Goes to his knees. Louis grins. 

“You like it when you’re high,” Louis says, as Niall crawls between his legs. His hair’s starting to dry in weird shapes and the back of his neck is bright red. “Don’t you?”

Niall puts his hands on Louis’ thighs, gently. His palms are hot. Louis quivers, being touched, and then puts his fingers in Niall’s hair, wiry-soft.

“Go on,” he says again. His voice has gone hoarse. “C'mon. You like it.”

Niall lowers his head.

Louis bites back a rough sound at the first touch, Niall’s lips grazing the head of his prick. It’s too dry, too light, and then his mouth is fitting around the tip, tongue pressing against his slit, and Louis can’t keep himself quiet.

“Shit,” he mutters, shifting his fingers in Niall’s hair. “Shit, yeah. Like that.”

Niall stays right there. Snogs the head of Louis’ cock, tongue and lips, until everything’s wet and slick and Louis’ thigh is twitching, his breath coming fast. How’s Niall know how to _do_ that? He sucks cock like a porno. Like he’s savoring it.

“Jesus,” Louis says, harsh. He can’t help it. It kicks off something hot in his chest to watch Niall do it, makes him feel stormy and unsteady. It’s a struggle not to shove Niall down onto him, thrust his hips. He’s shaking.

He could barely see last time, in that tent at Glasto, and it’s dark now, still, but he’s got a better view. Niall has his eyes closed, lashes fluttering over his pink cheeks. Mouth wide open. It’s too much all of a sudden, pleasure going sharp and hot, and Louis takes his hands off Niall’s hair so he won’t do something stupid. He puts one on Niall’s shoulder instead, squeezes bruisingly hard. Niall moans against the head of his dick.

“Jesus, fuck, c'mon. Do it.”

Niall opens his mouth wider and sinks down, right on cue. Christ, that’s - that’s. Incredible. Louis’ head thunks against the back of the seat, and his eyes shut despite himself.

The sounds are dirty, Niall sucking loud and wet, breathing noisily through his nose. Louis can’t open his eyes against the pleasure that keeps coming in waves. Niall keeps swallowing around his dick, swallowing, swallowing, and if he keeps it up, Louis’ gonna-

He jerks back, away, wriggling in his seat, and Niall pulls off, panting hard. Louis forces his eyes open.

“Fuck,” he mutters,  "Fuck. I’m fucked up.“

Niall’s looking up at him, eyes bright, watery. There’s a shiny tear-stain down one cheek from where he’s gagged himself breathless on Louis’ dick.

"What?” he says, roughly. “S'it okay?”

Louis nods dazedly. He swallows hard, puts his hand in Niall’s hair again. He can feel the tremor crawl down Niall’s spine. Just from _that_. God, he likes this so much. Louis wonders if Niall likes it when he’s not stoned, and then he doesn’t want to think about it.

“Can I,” Niall mumbles, before he puts his hand around the base of Louis’ cock, gets his mouth around it again.

Louis lets him. Louis tips his head back and lets Niall work. He comes with a muffled groan, as Niall wanks him off, kissing the head again, messy and wet. Shoots into the heat of Niall’s mouth, a good hard orgasm that leaves him shaking in his seat, grinning with teeth, skin tingling. He’s still riding it out when he looks down and sees Niall gasping a breath, white smeared over his chin.

“Wait,” he says, letting out a strange laugh, shaky. “Wait.”

Niall looks up at him.

“Show me,” Louis says, low.

Niall’s brows furrow.

“Open your mouth,” Louis mumbles, reaching forward for Niall’s bottom lip. “Lemme see.”

Niall shakes his head, eyes going wide and embarrassed. He holds his mouth shut. 

It’s fucking sick - porno shit - but then that’s what Niall likes. That’s the way he sucks dick.

“Show me,” Louis says, cupping Niall’s chin. “What’s in your mouth.”

Niall chokes out a wobbly breath and opens his mouth. He’s swallowed most of it already - _eager_ , Louis thinks - but there’s come at the side of his lips and - and on his tongue, and Louis groans, thumbing Niall’s bottom lip approvingly when Niall shows him his tongue like he knows exactly what Louis’ looking for. It’s nothing Louis’ done before, but - Niall looks into it. He’s breathing hard.

“D’you like that?”

“Louis,” Niall chokes, reaching a hand up to wipe his mouth. He stuffs the hand into his jeans, letting out a harsh breath. He must be fucking aching by now.

“Does it taste good?” Louis whispers, stomach squirming at the question. Eleanor asked him the same once, after he licked her out for a solid hour, came up with his face smeared wet. He said yes.

Niall just groans, hand starting to jerk upward as he wanks himself inside his jeans, fast and frantic. Not even getting off his knees, Christ. Not even cleaning his mouth.

“That what you like about it?” Louis murmurs. “You like how it tastes when- when I come in your mouth?”

Niall moans, head tipping downwards, and Louis doesn’t like that. He wants to see Niall’s face.

He pulls him up by the chin, spit and come sticky under his fingers. “Look at me.”

Niall looks. His eyes are huge, watery blue. He can’t stop gulping out these jagged breaths, and his mouth is swollen, flushed pink.

“You like my dick?”

“Yeah,” Niall mumbles. “Yeah.”

“Like how I taste?”

“ _Fuck_ yeah.” Niall tries to drop his gaze again and Louis holds him there, steady as he can.

“No, no, look at me when you - when you get yourself off,” he says, low, dirty. He’s trembling, but not as hard as Niall is.

“Lou, god, please,” Niall chokes out, staring at him.

“C'mon. You close?”

Niall nods into Louis’ palm.

“C'mon then, Ni. Go on. Can you still - can you still taste me?”

Niall whimpers, embarrassed, but his hand speeds up. God, it must be dry, cramped, his jeans not even unzipped. Louis’ cock aches in sympathy. Must be bloody desperate, to do it that way.

“That’s good,” Louis whispers, watching his breath go quick and close. “That’s a good lad, go on-”

Niall’s face twists, eyes squeezing closed, but he’s quiet when he comes, just the weakest moan against Louis’ hand. He stays there for a long minute, breathing high and fast. Louis holds him steady, not sure what to do. He’s half-hard again, an uncomfortable pulse between his legs, but he won’t- he won’t let it go further than that.

He lets go of Niall’s chin gently, and Niall sways on his knees, blinking. He takes his hand slowly out of his jeans, and Louis’ stomach contracts, a strange clench of shame and interest. Niall’s made a mess of himself. Creamed up his hand, come everywhere.

Niall staggers backward, looking at his hand like he’s forgotten where he is.

He reaches with his clean hand into the back pocket of his jeans, comes up with a packet of tissues.

“Are you serious?” Louis says, laughing. It breaks the tension in the car, and Niall looks up at him sheepishly, scrubbing his palm off with a Kleenex.

“What?” he says. “Y'never know.”

“Do you usually wank in random places, Niall?”

“It’s a fuckin’ tissue, not a cumrag,” Niall snorts.

“You’re cleaning come with it _right now_.”

Niall snorts again. He stuffs the dirty tissue into his front pocket, wipes a hand over his sweaty forehead. Thumbs at his chin, where Louis’ come was. Licks his bottom lip, and then the side of his mouth. 

Louis watches him for a minute, fascinated, and then remembers himself. He zips up his jeans, straightens his shirt.

“Fuck, my jeans,” Niall mutters, looking down at himself.

“Lemme see,” Louis says, and Niall tilts his hips up to look. They both laugh. Louis shines his phone flashlight on Niall’s crotch, peers down at him. Nothing to be seen, really. Niall’s still a bit rain-damp, but there’re no come stains.

“Think you’re good,” he says, and laughs again. He feels, improbably, more stoned than he did before they started. Like the orgasm loosened something up in his chest, let the weed in. Louis’ not sure of the scientific accuracy of that, but it feels true. 

“Feel fucking disgusting, but oh well,” Niall says, nose wrinkling. Something buzzes, muffled. “Think that’s me.”

He digs his phone out of his back pocket, peers at it. “It’s Liam, he’s wondering where we are.”

“I have no fucking clue,” Louis says lazily, flopping back into his chair. Niall fumbles his way upright and does the same, heaving a breath as he lies back down. “I mean, Chicago, but other than that. No idea. Why’d he text you and not me, the bastard.”

“Cos I actually do know where we are?” Niall says, huffing a laugh as he taps out a response. “And you don’t respond to texts. You and Haz both are fucking pains with that.”

Louis looks out the window. “Text me something worthwhile, I’ll respond.”

“Aaand that’s why Liam doesn’t text you,” Niall mutters.

“Cos he has nothing worthwhile to say? Harsh, Nialler.”

Niall barks a laugh, rolls his head over to look at Louis. His eyes are soft, and Louis averts his eyes, stares out the window.

That’s the kind of look he doesn’t like, from Niall. When he looks all - warm. Like he doesn’t want to look at anyone other than Louis for the rest of his life.

“He on his way then?” he asks, coughing.

Niall looks down; Louis can see it out of the corner of his eye. “Uh, yeah. We’re sposed to meet him by where Kid Cudi’s playing. Pretty close to here.”

“Should ring Preston.”

“Yeah, I will.” Niall lifts the phone to his ear, and Louis looks away again, staring out the window. The sun’s coming out again, people straggling out from wherever they had to hide during the storm. _Loads_ of people. Louis groans to himself. All of a sudden he wants to be back in the hotel with a beer and a football match on telly.

He knows Niall would go back with him if he asked. Niall always goes when Louis asks.

“Yeah, cheers,” Niall’s saying into the phone. He chuckles. “Yeah. That’s hilarious. Alright, see you in a few. Thanks, mate. Bye.”

He hangs up. “Preston’s almost here. Went into some trailer with a bunch of girls who were watching Chet Faker. Made some new friends, apparently.”

Louis snorts. “Why didn’t he come in with us?”

“Dunno.” Niall tucks his phone into his pocket. “Glad he didn’t, though.”

He goes a bit pink in the cheeks, and Louis rolls his eyes and unlocks the door. He can see Preston now, hurrying across the grass.

“He’s here.” Louis gives himself one last once-over, runs his fingers through his hair. He can see Niall doing the same. “Let’s go.”

He pushes the door open, and Niall follows him outside.


End file.
